David Lynch, What the Hell Were You Smoking?
by sincerelymendacious
Summary: Franke and Kitty sit down and watch a nice, wholesome film.


If there's one lesson to be learned from Mulholland Drive, it's this: weed and David Lynch are not a good combination.

At least, that's what Franke thought as she stared dazedly at the T.V. screen, blinking stupidly at the rolling credits, the names an incomprehensible blur. She squinted, hoping that an explanation of what the hell had just happened would scroll upwards, like a reverse of the Star Wars prologue. None came, and Franke lay back against her bed pillows, her body tense despite the bowl of very good pot she and Kitty had shared.

She jumped when the T.V. turned off seemingly of its own accord, momentarily forgetting that her girlfriend was reclining next to her on the bed. "Did you like it?" Kitty asked, at ease. Her eyes, long-lashed and half-lidded, in combination with her posture and sleepy smile, made her look very much like her namesake. Seeing Kitty in this state- no make-up, clad in a tank top and shorts, and stoned- was a rarity, even for Franke, but it wasn't something she could really appreciate at this moment.

Did she like Mulholland Drive? The simple answer was 'no', but that no didn't quite encompass the anxiety and confusion now clouding her brain. What the hell had she just watched? Why had all of the characters suddenly turned into different people? What was up with that creepy old couple? And just what in the name of fuck even was that nasty zombie hobo? These were all questions that Franke wanted to ask, but they all wanted to be asked at once. They crowded in her throat, pressed together too tightly for any one of them to get past her lips. Franke could only stare quietly at her socked feet, her mind absolutely fucked.

"Franke. What did you think?" Kitty asked, her words slow and languid. The pitch of her voice was lower than usual, likely due to all of their smoking. "You there, girlfriend?"

Franke opened her mouth, presumably to say something. That something, whatever it was, was interrupted by a muffled knocking coming from outside of her apartment. Franke completely lost it. "Oh fuck!" she screamed, head bowed and hands pressed over her ears. "Don't answer that! Oh my God!" That homeless zombie, or maybe those creepy old people, or maybe even David Lynch himself, back from the dead (he was dead, right?) were at her door right now, and if that door was opened, it was All Over. "Ohhhh noooo," she moaned, rocking back and forth. Her fingers curled inwards, tugging at her short, stylishly choppy hair.

"Franke, what…" She felt Kitty move to sit up. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Don't answer the door!"

"There's no one at your door, Franke," Kitty said as she slid her arms around Franke's shoulders, practically draping herself over her huddled form. "They were knocking on your neighbor's door."

Neighbors? Oh. Right. If there was somebody at her door, they'd probably still be knocking, and the sound had just stopped. Franke took a deep breath, trying her best to clear her foggy mind of smoke and strange images. "Aw, man," she said, shaking her head. "I'm all messed up."

Kitty gave a wordless noise of agreement to the declaration, sounding more amused than concerned. She pulled Franke closer to her, guiding her head slowly and gently onto her lap. Franke let her, her body pliable and limp, willing to allow Kitty to manipulate her however she pleased, her anxiety ebbing the moment her cheek made contact with the smooth skin of Kitty's thigh. Fingers began carding through her hair, the short, well-manicured nails scratching against her scalp. A few seconds of this and then the freak out was over. She was still a bit on edge, maybe, but not likely to lose her mind over a thump outside of her door.

It seemed safe now to voice her opinion of her girlfriend's favorite film. "You know how," she began, swallowing dryly, really wishing she had something to drink right now. Maybe, like, a milkshake. Yeah, a strawberry milkshake, with a big plate of those fries that were smothered in that obviously fake but totally delicious cheese sauce to go with it…

"Franke," Kitty said, poking her on the cheek. "What do I know?"

The poke put Franke's train of thought back on the right track. "You know how sometimes I don't really get the movies you like, but I like them anyway because someone dies in a really hilarious way or the actresses are hot?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't like this one at all." The confession struck Kitty as funny, and she stifled her laughter as Franke continued. "I don't think I got, like, any of it. At all. And all that weird shit was just…too much." She sighed and turned onto her back, so that she was facing upwards, able to see Kitty looking down at her. She didn't appear to be offended by Franke's assessment of the movie, far from it actually. She was smiling- a real smile, not one of those close-lipped half-smile, half-smirked reserved for stupid boys- in the way that always gave Franke that warm feeling all the way down to her toes, the smile that showed off all of Kitty's perfect teeth and made her nose scrunch up adorably. Without thinking, Franke reached up and slid her hand along Kitty's jaw, her thumb caressing her girlfriend's bottom lip.

Kitty gently took the hand caressing her face into her own, their fingers interlocking automatically. "I knew that it would kind of freak you out," she admitted, not sounding apologetic in the least. "I didn't think that you would get it."

"Maybe I shouldn't have smoked all that weed while watching it," Franke said thoughtfully. "Or maybe I didn't smoke enough?"

That statement forced the laughter that Kitty had been holding back right out, and soon after both girls were giggling mindlessly. "You didn't like any of it?" Kitty asked once her giggles had subsided. "I thought that the lesbian scenes would be enough to make-up for everything else."

Laura Harring did have great tits. "Maybe we could go back and just watch the really gay scenes?"

"That's sounds like a good plan, baby," Kitty said as she bent forward to press her lips against Franke's.


End file.
